Overdue Clarity

I’m not just “self-aware.” I’m self-honest. There’s a difference, and I don’t think I realized it for a long time.

A lot of people can analyze themselves. They can talk about patterns, trauma, attachment styles, all that fun vocabulary. I can do that too. But the part that actually changed my life wasn’t awareness, it was honesty. The kind that comes at a price. The kind that rearranges relationships. The kind that makes people say “you’ve changed”. And maybe I have, on the outside.

I didn’t just wake up one day with new opinions about my family, religion, or the government. I let my entire worldview fall apart without rushing to replace it with a new belief system, just to feel safe again. I sat in the discomfort. I sat in the grief. I sat in the “holy shit, this changes everything” moment. Most people don’t do that. They numb out, double down, or find a new box to crawl into. I didn’t. And that wasn’t easy! It felt like losing the ground under my feet.

I was raised around Christianity, but it always felt more like something I was taught to participate in than something I actually felt. Prayer was framed as gratitude, holidays were observed, and I tried, on my own, to understand what my friends experienced through church. I learned the stories and the language. I wanted it to click. But even with understanding, the emotional connection people described never showed up for me. I didn’t feel the warmth or certainty others seemed to find, and the sense of community everyone talked about never felt natural or safe to me.

Eventually, I stopped trying to force a feeling that wasn’t there. Not out of rejection, but out of honesty. Walking away didn’t make me a worse person, and it didn’t turn me against religion or belief. I’m not atheist, and I’m not closed off to meaning or connection. I just experience the universe and consciousness in my own way, and I’m learning to trust that. Saying this out loud may change some relationships, and I’ve made peace with that. I’m not asking anyone to agree with me, only to understand that this isn’t something I decided on casually. It’s simply the truth of how I experience the world.

That realization didn’t stop with belief. It showed up everywhere… I had been editing myself to stay acceptable. In conversations, in relationships, in the way I softened things so they wouldn’t be uncomfortable for anyone else. Once I stopped forcing myself to fit into beliefs that weren’t true for me, I started noticing how often I’d been doing that with my words too.

At some point, I chose to write a letter- not to avoid a conversation, but to finally stop negotiating my truth. When it was met with “you should’ve just come talk to me,” something clicked. I realized that some people only feel comfortable with your truth when it’s flexible, interruptible, and easy to redirect. Writing was the only way my words could exist without being negotiated.

What looks like anger now is actually loyalty- redirected. I’m not angrier at the world. I’m less willing to abandon myself to keep the peace, less forgiving of bullshit. I’m clearer about my boundaries. And yeah, I’ve got IDGAF energy now- not because I stopped caring, but because I started caring about the right things.

This isn’t a midlife crisis. It’s alignment. A crisis is frantic. This feels grounded. I’m calmer now because I’m not constantly negotiating with myself about what I’m allowed to feel, say, or need. The peace didn’t come from everything being okay, it came from me deciding I won’t betray myself anymore just to be perceived as “good.”

Here’s the part I’m still learning to own: I’ve always been safe for other people to be real around. I hold space well. I listen. I understand nuance. But for a long time, I wasn’t safe for myself. I prioritized harmony over truth. I swallowed feelings that should’ve been named. I stayed quiet when my body was screaming-but done negotiating my truth. This version of me isn’t louder, she’s clearer. Not a breakdown. Not a phase. Just overdue clarity.